


Schism

by mybluerose



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gen, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 15:34:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3697589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mybluerose/pseuds/mybluerose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Harry Potter knows he is a wizard. He knows he is going to Hogwarts where he will make friends for the first time in his life. He knows this because the voice in his head told him so. The voice says it is Harry from the future but Harry just wishes if would stop trying to take over his body. Time Travel, Schizo!Harry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Cracked

**Prologue: Cracked**

It was a beautiful spring day in Little Whinging, Surry. It was warm but there was a cool breeze and the scent of lilacs in the air. Mrs. Petunia Dursley, however, was not enjoying the fine day. She was kneeling in her flower bed planting some perennials to brighten up the front yard. To her left, several yards away, was her young nephew Harry Potter. The boy was pulling weeds, placing them into the basket beside him, all the while muttering softly to himself.

Petunia pursed her lips. It didn't matter how many times she and Vernon had told the boy to stop talking to himself, the boy still did it. They had even locked him in his cupboard for a week. It hasn't stopped him. In fact, you could hear him muttering to himself in the cupboard. The only good thing you could say about it was that most the time he did it so quietly you couldn't understand what he was saying. On those rare occasions when you could understand him... 

It sounded like he was having an argument with himself.

It was so abnormal and not a little insane. The whole street had taken to calling him the ‘mad lad’. While the Dursley’s were grateful for the sympathy they received in raising their mentally ill nephew, they disliked the attention it brought.

It hadn't always been always like this. Four months ago the boy had been almost normal, aside from the freakishness he got from his parents. He was an ungrateful troublemaker, yes, nothing at all like her sweet Dudley. But at least he acted normal most the time. About three months ago that had all changed. It was as if the boy had gone to bed one night and woke up mad.

She supposed she could handle it, if muttering to himself was all the boy had taken up. Around the same time he started talking to himself, the boy’s personality seemed to have changed too. Now days, when Petunia asked him to do something instead of resigned acceptance or the occasional defiant refusal he use to give, in response the boy would nod with a blank face and do which she asked.

But that wasn't the strange thing about him. If you watch the boy you noticed that emotions would flicker across his face for no reason at all. She would be sitting at the dinner table, eating silently, staring at his plate while anger, sadness and joy played across his features in quick succession. If he caught you looking at him, his face would resume its expressionless mask.

And he would often stare at nothing for long periods of time or worse, at people.

And this wasn't all. Dudley had always enjoyed roughhousing with the boy at home and at school but two months ago Petunia had met with the boy’s teacher because he had viciously attacked Dudley, leaving her poor son bleeding and bruised. The teacher had also caught the boy banging his head violently against a brick wall. When asked why, the boy had said it was because he wanted to voices his head to shut up.

The boy had been locked his cupboard for a month after what he did to Dudley. They heard him screaming at night and it was only Vernon's threats to thrash the boy within an inch of his life that made him stop. It has been a month since the boy was let out of his cupboard and his behavior, while no longer as erratic, was still unusual enough to be noticeable. And the boy _still_ constantly muttered to himself.

It seemed apparent to everyone that the boy called Harry Potter was utterly mad.


	2. Chapter 1: Fractured

**Chapter 1: Fractured**

“Get the mail, boy.” His uncle Vernon ordered.

Harry said nothing but stood up from the table, where they were having breakfast, and walked to the living room. There was a small pile of letters by the door underneath the mail slot. Picking them up and idly looking through them, Harry went still when he saw a thick envelope that was addressed to him. It even had his cupboard on it. It had come.

_I told you it would._

The Other said. Harry ignored him. The truth was, he hadn’t really believed the voice when it had told him he was a wizard or that he would be going to a magical school called Hogwarts. It seemed even crazier than having a voice in your head that sometimes attempted to control your body. It also sounded too good to be true.

Harry knew he was a bit odd. Strange things had often happened around him—like that time he had turned his teacher’s hair blue and he had recently talked to a snake—but he had never suspected that what he was doing was magic. That is, until three months ago, when he had been sleeping in his cupboard and suddenly wasn’t alone in his own head anymore.

The Other, as Harry called him, said that he was Harry Potter from the future. The Other had tried to take over his body and make him do… well, he wasn’t quite sure what the Other wanted to do but Harry had fought him. And he had won, sort of. The Other could not fully control him when he resisted but Harry discovered quickly that he could not resist very well if he was feeling really angry or afraid.  Or any strong emotion, really.

The worst part was that the Other was able to read Harry’s thoughts but Harry couldn’t read his. He could feel the Other’s emotions, when he was paying attention, but he was afraid to believe anything the Other said. Everyone now thought he was crazy because he talked to the Other out loud. Harry couldn’t help it. He was beginning to think he was as mad as people said he was.

The first month had been the worst. They had fought for control of his body every day, with the Other seeming to become increasingly desperate. It was when Dudley and his gang were chasing Harry that he let his fear get the better of him. The Other had taken over completely for the first time. He had attacked Dudley so badly that his cousin was still afraid to come too close to him.

Folding the letter in half, Harry secreted it in the pocket of his trousers (which used to be Dudley’s and were three time his size). Though he desperately wanted to read it, Harry knew it would be safer to wait until he was somewhere where his aunt and uncle couldn’t see. They hated even the idea of magic and there was no way they would let him go to a school of it.

_Good idea. They tried to stop me from reading my letter. Not that it worked._

The Other said and Harry felt a mixture of emotions from him. Amusement and nostalgia were the main ones but there was hurt and frustration in there, too. He returned to the kitchen and sat down at the table after handing his uncle the small stack of letters.

“What happened?” Harry muttered.  He usually tried to avoid asking the Other questions because he didn’t want to encourage him but he couldn’t help himself.

_Uncle Vernon boarded up the mail slot. That didn’t work. They just sent the letters under the door and through chimney. The house was full of them!_

Harry laughed causing his aunt and uncle to glare at him.

_Eventually Uncle Vernon droves us to a shack out on an island, that’s when Hagrid broke the door down and gave me my letter. You should have seen the look on Uncle Vernon’s face…_

The Other trailed off and Harry again caught a stream of emotions that weren’t his. Wonder, happiness, sadness and regret. The Other never seemed to feel just one thing at once. It was always a bunch of things at the same time.

_When have seen and done all the things I have, you’ll feel ‘a bunch of things at the same time’ too._

Harry hoped not but didn’t respond. He didn’t want to get into another argument. Not when he and the Other were getting along, or at least, not fighting all the time. He’d been locked in his cupboard for a month after the Other beat up Dudley.  They’d talked a lot while he was shut in the cupboard and had come to a truce…

0-0-0-0-0

**Three Months Previous:**

Harry was laying his cot, staring blindly in the darkness of his cupboard. He had heard the Dursley’s go upstairs to bed an hour ago. He didn’t dare try to sneak food from the refrigerator for at least another hour. But he was hungry. His stomach growled. At least Aunt Petunia had let him use the bathroom before she went to bed. He didn’t think he could have held it for the rest of the night.

“This is all your fault.” He told the Other angrily.

_I didn’t mean for this to happen._

“What, you didn’t mean to take over my body and attack Dudley?” Harry scoffed.

_No, I didn’t. I just… acted on instinct._

There was a pause, and then,

_I didn’t think coming back would be like this._

Harry felt the Other’s frustration and…fear? What did the Other have to be afraid of?

_I have plenty of reasons to be afraid. People will die if I don’t save them. And I can’t do that if I’m stuck in hear with you._

Harry knew the Other wasn’t talking about the cupboard.

“Then you shouldn’t have come back, if you’re really from the future you should have known you’d be stuck with me.”

_You weren’t supposed to survive. I thought I’d have my body to myself._

Harry felt the chill of fear run down his spine. If the Other really was him, did that mean he’d become the sort of person who would kill his younger self so he could uses his body? He resolved that he would never do something like that. The Other sighed and Harry felt a roil of emotions from him: pain, regret, sadness and determination.

_I have killed a lot of people. Killing a younger version of myself didn’t seem any worse that some of the things I have had to do. I should have known that a boy who could throw of the imperious curse at fourteen would put up a good fight._

The last thought was full of resignation and…admiration? Of Harry? Was this a trick the Other was playing to attempt to control him again? Harry tensed, preparing for the mental battle he expected would occur at any moment.

_Let’s make a deal. I’ll stop trying to take over, unless there is an emergency—_

“You’ll really stop?” Harry asked, torn between hope and distrust.

_If you agree to do what I tell you, five times every day._

That was almost as worrying as the Other taking over. Harry’s mind whirred with the things he might have to do.

“Three times every day and I’ll do it,”

_Alright, three time a day_

Harry could feel the Other’s annoyance and, to his surprise, relief. Maybe this could work out after all…

 0-0-0-0-0

After breakfast, Harry went to the park that was several blocks away from Privet Drive. It was summer and the park was already packed with children. None of them bothered him as he made his way to the swings and sat down on the one farthest from the slide. With fingers trembling slightly, he opened the envelope and pulled out the thick parchment within. He read the short letter and list of school supplies twice before asking.

“Where am I supposed to get all this stuff? And how can they be ‘awaiting my owl’? I haven’t got an owl.”

_Not yet, but you’ll get one soon. You can get all this stuff in London. I’ll show you where. Your birthday’s coming soon, how would you like to have the best birthday ever?_

What do you mean?"

_You'll see, but first there are some things you need to do..._


End file.
